


Night Falls with Gravity

by sepiapages



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angst, Fluff, I'm not even sure anymore, M/M, i just wanted to write this, they needed kiss closure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 19:26:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5755357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sepiapages/pseuds/sepiapages
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kind of a spin-off for my last fic, The Night’s Décor? I don’t really know, but Tyler’s attitude towards the nighttime has shifted and he’s not really sure how he feels about that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Falls with Gravity

**Author's Note:**

> I just really wanted to write something because I love writing but nothing is really working right but I love writing and I just really wanted to write something. So here. Have this. It’s something.

Best friends were supposed to talk about things, especially when they were serious things that affected both of them, and made one (or both) of them uncomfortable. Or confused. Or both. But the thing was, Tyler wasn’t sure if they were best friends anymore, Josh and him. That didn’t mean they’d suddenly realized they hated each other and that real “You’re out of the band” speech was just hovering around the corner. It wasn’t. Tyler just didn’t know if they were best friends anymore.

He didn’t know what they were at all.

After happily falling back into the structure and business of tour life, the two boys hadn’t found many opportunities to talk like they had in the hotel room. That meant they also hadn’t had many opportunities to talk about what had happened in the hotel room. After the splinter removal. After the breakdown. After falling asleep. After waking up. After another breakdown. After talking. And then…

Tyler really needed to talk about it.

He began realizing the only times he really got to sit down and process everything were the quiet late nights when everyone else was asleep. He ended up connecting his life in the past few months into a sort of pattern.

Nighttime.

He had been very aware of the night’s effect on him since he was younger and when he’d started writing. In fact, sitting there in the dark, he realized when he wrote, he would be picking apart his consciousness and better understanding just how Tyler Robert Joseph worked.

Sure, the nighttime is when everything gets quiet and it’s harder to hide from your thoughts, and sometimes the doubts creep in and make you wish certain things you may not wish in the daytime. However, everyone needed to sit in silence and think sometimes.

Night was good, Tyler decided. Good things happened in the night. Not always, but they did. It was the same as the day, really. Anything could happen at any time and goddammit if Tyler wasn’t going to wake up and accept that.

It made him uncomfortable, though, to say the least. He felt like he was shaking the foundation he’d worked hard to build up over the years, no matter how much he insisted to himself that it was the right decision.

He found himself tossing and turning, groaning in frustration when he couldn’t manage to fall asleep.

_You figured it out, okay? Good things can happen in the night. Night isn’t always bad. Now go. To. Sleep._

He turned over again.

 _Yes but_ what _good things happened in the night?_

Apparently he needed examples. He rubbed his eyes and sat up in the bed, his spine digging into the headboard. He flicked out a finger and whispered quietly to himself. “Good things. One: random bursts of motivation.” _That I never actually follow through with in the morning._ “Two: remembering something that makes something else make sense.” _And then later confuses something else._ “Three: late-night revelations of real meaning that actually benefit your life.” _And accidentally confessing your long-repressed crush on your best friend._

Tyler blinked.

“Oh.”

Yeah, he really needed to talk about it. Specifically with someone who wasn’t himself. More importantly, with the other person involved.

He needed to talk to Josh.

But Josh was asleep right now, and Tyler Joseph wasn’t about to wake up his sleeping friend just so he could say, “Hey, I’m having a late-night crisis bordering on insomnia and an anxiety attack, and it kind of has to do with you. So let’s talk.” No, he certainly wasn’t going to do that because Josh needed his sleep.

Unfortunately, Joshua William Dun was not actually asleep, though he needed it just as much as Tyler. In the other room, Josh was awake and trying to pat out drumbeats on his thighs as quietly as he could because he needed noise. He _needed_ noise because he _needed_ to escape his rampaging thoughts that would only fall back to one word:

Tyler.

Tyler Tyler Tyler Tyler Tyler TYler TYler YTlER YTler TYler

He felt like a mess and a shitty best friend at that. They hadn’t talked about it and even though it had felt good—it felt _so_ good—he couldn’t help but feel like he had done something wrong.

He wanted to fix Tyler. He knew just how impossible that was and he knew just how long he’d spent during his teenage years learning that fact about every other person and trying to truly comprehend that.

It hadn’t really worked. But Tyler made things better, and now Josh had gone and ruined that peace.

But _it felt so good_.

Josh knew he’d had a crush on Tyler for a long time. He wished he could pinpoint the exact moment when he knew, but there was at least one day where he finally connected the dots that his feelings had created and realized: _Oh no._

He never really thought he’d act on it, though. He was prepared to live in tortured silence for the rest of his days if he had to be perfectly honest. Just to keep Tyler happy.

But right now, his best friend instincts were kicking in and he knew Tyler wasn’t happy, and neither was he. He was about to roll over and decide to take it on in the morning when he heard, and felt, a thump from the next room. A few keys clicked into place and Josh gasped quietly because he remembered Tyler was in that room.

He quickly and quietly tiptoed out of the room, grabbing a spare copy of the other room’s key from the nightstand on his way out. Standing in front of the door, he slid it in and tried his best to open the heavy door silently.

Tyler was on the floor.

Josh immediately began Panic Mode and assumed Tyler was in the middle of some sort of depressive episode or panic attack, so he leapt over the bags and a stray sleeping body to be by the thin man’s side.

Big, confused, dark brown eyes met his, blinking. No traces of panic (though the same couldn’t be said for Josh’s) but they definitely seemed distressed. Josh suddenly realized he was barely inches away from his friend’s face, staring at his eyes intently, and his cheeks flushed red in the dark room.

He tried his best to shake the nerves and grasped Tyler’s hand, pulling him up. “Are you okay?” he whispered.

Tyler nodded, studying him. He didn’t move to get out of Josh’s embrace.

“Do you want to talk?”

Tyler smiled, thinking of how Josh had said the same thing that night. He nodded again. Josh looked around and started guiding them both to the other side of the hotel room. There was a small balcony outside. Hopefully they wouldn’t freeze before talking it out.

Tyler leaned against the cold railing as soon as Josh let him go. He was rubbing his eyes and rolling his shoulders, almost as if the night was placing some sort of weight on him. It was different this time, though. He knew it was. He hoped Josh would make it a better different.

The drummer sat down on a plastic chair, sighing and running a hand through his hair. Several minutes of tense silence followed before he cleared his throat.

“Tyler?”

“Hmm?”

“We… I think we need to… uh, talk. About something.”

Tyler held his breath for a moment, then blew it out, bending over to rest his forehead on the cold bar. “Yeah. We do.” He spun around. “Josh, you kissed me.”

Josh’s stomach tightened, but another part of him flared in hopes of getting to do it again. “But, uh… Afterwards…” He clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to find the right words. He couldn’t look at Tyler, even if he was just a dark silhouette against the starry sky and hazy streetlamps.

Another sigh. Soft footsteps. Tyler stood in front of Josh and reached his slender fingers out to rest on the other boy’s hands. He smiled encouragingly at Josh, then gripped his hands and pulled him up to stand.

They were close. Chests nearly touching, and both very aware of that fact.

“Josh,” Tyler breathed. “What did it mean?”

“What do you want it to mean?”

“I want it to mean… that it wasn’t the last time. I want it to mean that we care maybe a little _differently_ but still… a lot. I want it to mean that something else might—”

And then it happened again. It was warm, and soft, and comforting. Then Josh brought his hand up to hold Tyler’s neck, the kiss deepening as if trying to say _It means more this time_. They enveloped each other and Tyler felt a surge of something he’d been missing for a long time: Hope.

They pulled away, but Tyler grabbed Josh’s arm and held him close, burying his head in the over boy’s shoulder. “Josh, you’re my sunshine. Hope in a bottle. I just… Please, don’t feel too pressured by that. Just keep doing what you’re already doing, okay?” He gripped Josh’s shirt in his fingers and leaned more into him.

Josh ran his fingers delicately over his head, going down to stroke his neck and shoulders. “I’m not going anywhere, Ty. I love you. You’re my inspiration and my rock. I’ve got you.”

“I love you too.”

They sat quietly after that and just enjoyed the stars for a while. Then they crawled into the bed, not caring what kind of explanation they’d have to deal out in the morning, and fell asleep together.

Tyler decided he liked the night.

**Author's Note:**

> I realize I’m really frickin repetitive like??? I get called out on that by my English teachers every year but I use it with style… and I’m very aware of it… ‘cause ya know the English language, even in prose, has a lot of malleability when you’re a total nerd about it like I am. SO hopefully the repetition isn’t translating to bad quality for you, dear reader. Thanks for reading. Comment suggestions n stuff. I’d very much appreciate. (I wish there were more places to add notes because I ramble a lot, even about my own stuff. Plus I wrote this at midnight… so… sorry? Okay bye.)


End file.
